Car School

The days are short, 

but long. 

Laundry piles rise and crest and fall, 

but just like the tide, 

always return.  

The baby poops.

The floors are dusty.

It's cold. 

We read and paint.  We experiment.

We homeschool.

I find myself driving a lot these days.  

To electronics class.  

To Medieval History class.  

To Ancient Times class.

To Lego Engineering class.

To Fairytale class.

To Gymnastics.

To piano lessons.

I guess we really car school.

 

Sometimes we sit and wait.

I read to Tessa if she is not in class, while Jonah naps.  

It is not quite what I had expected it to be.

My life is set by a different kind of clock.

One that runs on stories that lead to more stories,

and on questions that lead to more questions, then still more.

A clock that stops suddenly when cooking becomes science

and science becomes art

and art becomes history

which, of course, is story time,

after all.

And, in case you are still wondering, 

No.  I am not worried about their socialization.

They are doing just fine.